


dawn, in her golden sandals

by casualbird



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M, Pegging, Post-Canon, Trans Male Character, True Love, Vignette, in fact TWO trans characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:07:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26607202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casualbird/pseuds/casualbird
Summary: At the first blushing of dawn, after an endless sleepless march, Linhardt hasn’t got the energy to be smug. The softened smile on his face, the wetness in his lashes, the loose curl of his fingers in Caspar’s as he lead him up to bed—it’s all as real, as tangible as silver coins.The war is over. Caspar and Linhardt celebrate.
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	dawn, in her golden sandals

At the first blushing of dawn, after an endless sleepless march, Linhardt hasn’t got the energy to be smug. The softened smile on his face, the wetness in his lashes, the loose curl of his fingers in Caspar’s as he lead him up to bed—it’s all as real, as tangible as silver coins.

Above him, Caspar trembles, squints around the sweat that streams into his eyes. He won’t miss one twitch of that expression, one fond quirking eyebrow, the graze of one eyetooth on well-kissed lips.

“I think,” he huffs, so weary and yet so _bright—_ “Linny, baby, I think this is the prettiest you’ve ever been.”

Linhardt just laughs, ruffles close-cropped hair. “You say that every time.”

“Would I—” and he’s cut off by a cry, coaxed from him by the sheathe of Linhardt full inside. “Would I, fuck, lie?”

Linhardt’s hair, gleaming even after days unwashed, drifts soft over the pillowcase as he shakes his head.

“You would never,” he murmurs, with a voice like a vase of forget-me-nots.

Caspar laughs assent, though it’s hard to tell over the hissing—Linhardt’s cock is polished stone, and it shifts _so heavily_ within him.

“S-see?” He trundles his weight onto one elbow, shakes the tingling out of his hand. Lays it, then, on his love’s moon-pale collarbone, forming to its shape. “Y’just get _—hah,_ better.”

On another day, when Linhardt was not lulled with a treaty signed, the deep still certainty that his Caspar was safe—he might have snorted out a laugh. Might have said something, some false-skeptical line about critical mass, and then, depending, they might have had to lay aside lovemaking for the span of a brief explanation of critical mass.

As it was, though, Caspar’s roughened hands ran tender down the last of his bruised ribs, cradling for a moment the crescent of his breast. He shivered at the touch, breath shaking, wholly discomposed and entirely adoring.

The sight of it made Caspar shake in turn, made him spasm and spill over, hunch his body over Linhardt’s and wail. Linhardt held him, whispering, stroking the familiar terrain of his back. _Yes, there you go, that’s my boy._

And when it was over, when Caspar came back to himself—there was only one thing on his slick bitten lips.

“We can do this forever, right?”

“I don’t see why not.”

**Author's Note:**

> hi hi! i hope you enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it--its very freeing writing things that are so short!
> 
> do tell me what you thought, and if you feel like it, come chill with me on [twitter!!](https://twitter.com/bird_scribbles)
> 
> title is as always from sappho


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